


In which another brother visits (and it's not so happy)

by ThisWasntTaken



Series: Sweet Justice [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, But it's not Christmas so I'm not in the spirit so have some curry, Christmas, Dysfunctional Family, M/M, family matters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-11
Updated: 2013-10-11
Packaged: 2017-12-29 02:04:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/999584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisWasntTaken/pseuds/ThisWasntTaken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas night shenanigans and the craziness that unfolds the next day. Sam and Gabriel (say it with me, finally) have a good snog.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In which another brother visits (and it's not so happy)

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't posted in, like, two weeks because of midterms and writer's block. I'm sorry.
> 
> The first 1/3 of this is betaed (by saybriel.tumblr.com), but she was also busy and it's been crazy. (If you're interested in helping in the interim, do please shoot me a message.)
> 
> A note on the ages: Sam is 22 (23 in May), Gabriel is 35 (36 in February), Dean is 25 (26 in January), and Castiel is 30 (31 in April). That makes the age difference between Sam and Gabriel 13 years.

Everyone agrees that the curry is delicious. After dinner, Gabriel tosses a Christmas present at Dean’s head, but Dean refuses to open it because he hasn’t bought Gabriel anything and “that isn’t fair.” Gabriel dismisses his protest with a wave and a chuckle, saying to get him a Christmas sweater “so ugly it’d be a hit at the nursing home,” and they’d trade then.

They don’t break out the alcohol until the respectable hour of seven thirty, and it’s all downhill from there.

They all drink similar amounts, but Gabriel’s and Castiel’s extraordinary alcohol tolerances make it so that they only get a little past buzzed. On the other hand, Sam and Dean get pretty drunk. And amorous?

***

“So, Cas, whaddya say about me staying the night?” Dean asks, words slurred and grin lopsided.  
“With your current level of inebriation, I wonder if it wouldn’t be best to walk you home. The alcohol should keep us feeling warm despite the weather,” Castiel says.  
Dean pouts a bit, trying to look either good enough to stay or too drunk to go home. “Oh come on, Cas. Let me stay.”  
“It would be the more responsible thing to do, I suppose. I don’t know how you would care for yourself in this state,” Castiel huffs softly. “However, Dean, there will be no intercourse.”  
“Don’t be such a prude, Cas!” Dean groans and drops his head like a petulant child. “Whaddya think people do when they get drunk with their boyfriends?”  
“Dean, you have no right to criticize me for my sexual choices. It is my body and any such decision is ultimately mine,” Castiel chastises, suddenly harsh. “I believe it is time for you to go to sleep.” Dean stares at the sofa for a few minutes. “Dean, go,” Castiel says.  
Dean lifts his head and asks, in a softer voice, “You coming with me?”  
“Yes, of course. However, if you try anything, I’ll make you sleep in the bathtub,” Castiel warns, lightly touching Dean’s back to urge him off the couch and up the stairs.

***

Sam is a lot smarter than Dean; he knows that he’s no good when his brain turns to mush with alcohol, so he forgoes the talk and goes straight to the physical. It starts with a gentle push and soft laughs on the loveseat—totally innocent and, done in the drunken haze, forgivable—then Sam presses his mouth against Gabriel’s.  
For a few minutes, Gabriel kisses back, pushing his body up into the contact and relishing in the sweet, slightly slick, slide of Sam’s almost-chapped lips on his own. But Gabriel’s older and wiser—and he's supposed to be more responsible (damn). “Sam,” Gabriel says, pulling back all he can with Goliath keeping him in place. Sam ignores him, dips his head to continue the kiss. “Sam, stop,” Gabriel urges, pushing against the younger man’s chest. Sam huffs, sits up, and looks at Gabe almost sourly. “Not like this, okay?” Gabriel asks in what he hopes is an amused tone. “You’re wasted and I’m buzzed…I won’t let your first time with a guy go like that.”  
Sam pouts a bit and nuzzles into Gabriel’s neck. “Can we at least make out?” he asks, his lips dragging across the skin there with every word.  
Gabriel doesn’t lean his head to the side, doesn’t moan. Wants to, but doesn’t. “We’ll talk when you’re sober.”  
Sam frowns and shakes his head. “You never listen when I’m sober.”  
“I listen, Sam.”  
“No, you don’t. You pretend to listen but you don’t really. I’m falling in love with you, Gabriel!”  
Gabriel relaxes a little and sighs. “Sam. Don’t say anything you’re gonna regret in the morning.”  
“You’re never gonna believe me. I’m gonna be ninety years old, chasing after you!”  
“Well, I’ll be over a hundred, so I won’t be hard to catch,” Gabriel says. “Let’s get you to bed. Where are your clothes?”  
“I forgot them because I was rushing Dean to pick up your damn spices.”  
“Shut up. That curry was delicious.”

***

Sam wakes up and knows he’s gonna need to throw up. He decides to go to the bathroom now instead of having to make a run for it later, but when he gets there he finds that someone’s in the shower. The only other is downstairs, but he’s still better equipped to handle that now, so he heads down. That journey shakes him so much that he still ends up making a run for the (thankfully unoccupied) bathroom.  
He looks in the drawers for some aspirin and finds a few unopened toothbrushes first, so he takes one and decides to replace it later.  
Once he doesn’t taste like vomit, old booze, and “yuck” anymore, he resumes his search for the aspirin, which he finds and takes, then contemplates going back upstairs, but it’s so far and Gabriel is down here anyway, so he curls into the fetal position on the loveseat and goes back to sleep.

The next thing he remembers is, “Princess, wake up. What are you doing down here?”  
“Bathroom. Someone was in the shower and I had to throw up,” Sam says, his head still just this side of aching.  
“How’re you feeling?” Gabriel asks, way closer than strictly necessary.  
“Thirsty. My head hurts.”  
Gabriel plants a kiss on Sam’s neck. “I’ll go get you some water and the aspirin, okay?”  
“I took some already.”  
“Then I’ll get you a banana and get started on breakfast.”  
“I don’t want a banana,” Sam whines.  
“Princess,” Gabriel laughs, “the amount you pee when you drink makes your body lose a lot of potassium. You need to eat something with some K in it.”  
“Fine,” Sam sighs, sick at the thought of eating but too tired to fight about it.

While Gabriel’s in the kitchen, there’s a knock on the door. Gabe said his cooking school friends stop over whenever, and especially around the holidays, so Sam just goes to answer it.

The man at the door looks confused to see Sam. “Is this still where Gabriel and Castiel live?”  
Sam nods. “Yeah; Gabriel should be out in a minute. Come in.” He leads to man to the couch.

A banana falls into Sam’s lap and the voice of God (who sounds a lot like Gabriel), says, “Sam, you dropped the aspirin this morning and it’s not like I’m not hungover, too, okay?”  
“This morning is fuzzy, Gabriel. You’re lucky it wasn’t in the toilet,” Sam says. “But you found it, so I deserve a reward, right?”  
“You might have been able to use that if you’d put it back where it belongs, but you didn’t, so no,” Gabriel says, but he leans over Sam and lets him steal a kiss anyway. When he looks next to Sam, his expression changes. “Michael?”  
“Hello, Gabriel,” the man nods, looking increasingly uncomfortable as the situation becomes more apparent.  
“How did you get in here?” Gabriel asks.  
“Your friend let me in,” Michael says.  
“You did?” Gabriel looks at Sam with betrayal and hurt coloring his features.  
“I thought he was a friend from cooking school,” Sam says quickly. “Michael, your brother?”  
“Yeah,” Gabriel sighs. “Sam, why don’t you go wait in the TV room, okay? No! Go tell Dean to keep Castiel upstairs unless I call him down.”  
“Gabe, I’m—” Sam starts.  
“Just go, Sam,” Gabriel says. “Eat your banana. Damn, I was really looking forward to watching that.”  
“Gabe, please.”  
“I’m not mad at you, Sam; you didn’t know. Go, before Cas comes down.”

Castiel answers the door when Sam knocks. “Hello, Sam.”  
“Hey, Cas. Is Dean in there? I need to borrow him for a minute,” Sam says.  
“What’s up, Sammy?” Dean asks, and Sam can see it was he who showered.  
“In private, please.”  
“Did Gabriel take advantage of you? I’ll kill him!” Dean says, turning red in the face. “Gabriel!”  
“Dean! Stop. Come out here so we can talk in private,” Sam says, and Dean rolls his eyes but comes out. Castiel closes the door behind them.

“What’s going on?” Dean asks.  
Though Dean is always loud, Sam speaks softly. “Cas and Gabe’s older brother Michael is here and Gabe wants you to keep Cas upstairs unless Gabriel calls him down.”  
“Okay,” Dean nods. “And last night…?”  
“As far as I can tell, Gabe slept on the couch. I don’t know—I was pretty wasted—but I woke up with clothes on, so that’s good.”  
Dean nods again. “Yeah. I’ll keep Cas busy.”

***

Gabriel’s world shatters when he sees Michael. He’s upset with Sam for letting him in, but Sam had no way of knowing what Michael looked like and he just looks so damn earnest and worried about the whole thing that Gabe can’t stay mad at him.

When Sam gets upstairs, Gabriel sits on the loveseat, as far from Michael’s seat on the couch as possible. “Is Dad dead?”  
“No,” Michael shakes his head, surprised.  
“Is anyone dead?”  
“No, Gabriel. No one’s dead.”  
“Then you have no right to be here,” Gabriel says, and he wishes he could sound angry, scary, anything besides _broken_ , but he can’t. “Leave.”  
“Gabriel.”  
“Get out of my house before I call the police.”  
“Hear me out,” Michael says desperately.  
“What could you _possibly_ have to say to me?” Gabriel asks, his face contorting in the anger that he feels but that his voice won’t convey.  
“‘I’m sorry.’ I’ll say it in every language I know. I didn’t know what would happen, just wanted you to get burned and turn to women. I didn’t want you to get hurt.”  
“You didn’t want me to get hurt?! I’m dating a guy for weeks and we’re making out in his bed and he says that my _brother_ paid him to do it, and you have the _nerve_ to sit here and tell me you didn’t want me to get hurt?! Go to _hell_ , Michael.”  
“Gabriel, please. I made a mistake.”  
“I put too much cayenne in a curry once. That’s a mistake. You got me put into a _hospital_ , Michael!”  
“I didn’t want him to do that. I only wanted you to get your feelings hurt.”  
“You _hired_ him, Michael, and for all I know, he did what you hired him to do.”  
Michael puts his head in his hands. “That I could have conducted myself in a way that would make that plausible is the most shameful thing I will ever do.” Michael gets on his knees in front of Gabriel, switches to Enochian. “Please. Forgive me.”  
Gabriel catches his breath at the sound of it. “I need you to leave,” he says, but it’s in Enochian, too, and that encourages Michael.  
“We miss you. All the girls cried for weeks after you left. The boys kept their stiff upper lips, but we all miss you. Balthazar told me you were living here, that he’d heard from you and it was awkward but you were okay. He told me that you said Castiel was good, that he was brilliant like always and going to Caltech. I imagine he must have graduated by now.”  
“With honor,” Gabriel says. “And a PhD.”  
“That’s great. Dad’ll be really proud of him.”  
“No, he won’t. Does Dad even talk to you? To anyone?”  
“Dad is very ill. Mentally, I mean. Ever since Mom left, it’s been a slow descent into madness. I tried to provide for you all, to give you all the father he couldn’t be, but you have to understand that I was only a child myself. I did what I thought was best, and I’ve realized my mistakes since then. You call sometimes. You can’t say you don’t miss us.”  
“I do,” Gabriel says. “But I can’t go back. I can’t be that scared little kid, trying to keep the peace, just trying to make the fighting stop, Michael! And if I go back to you, that’s exactly what I’ll become again. I’ll fall in line like I always did, and I’ll be miserable like I always was.”

“Cas, stop!” Dean calls, chasing after Castiel as the latter bounds down the stairs. Michael gets up and wraps his arms around Castiel, who pulls away.  
Castiel speaks in English. “What are you doing here?” He turns to Gabriel, “You’re yelling, so I assume no one is dead or near it.”  
“No. He’s just…” Gabriel sighs. “I wish you’d just go back upstairs, Cas.”  
“Why is he here?”  
“He just wants to talk, Cassie. It’s got nothing to do with you.”  
“It has everything to do with him,” Michael says.  
Dean takes Cas’ hand. “You don’t have to talk to him if you don’t want. We can just go back upstairs.”  
“I believe that Michael deserves—” Cas starts.  
“Michael deserves shit!” Gabriel says, and all the commotion draws Sam out of the TV room.  
“Please, Gabriel,” Michael says. “I don’t need you to come back. I just need you to forgive me. Tell me that you could take this anger to the grave, that you could let me die with our relationship like this, and you wouldn’t regret it.”  
Gabriel softens as realization dawns. “Who’s hurt?”  
“Lucifer was involved in a—Luke went to prison. He was innocent and was proven such, but the day before he was released, some thugs started in on him. I walked into his room and, as soon as he saw me, he asked if I had set it up,” Michael scrubs his face in a way that makes Gabriel see the younger him, telling them that Mom was gone, trying to be tough. “ _That_ is what my brothers think of me. That’s what you thought of me, that’s what he thought of me, and I wouldn’t doubt it if that’s what Castiel thinks of me.”  
“He doesn’t, unless he came to that conclusion on his own. He only knows how you treated him and how he saw you treat me. He’s a kid; I didn’t tell him that,” Gabriel says. Sam comes up behind and wraps his arms around Gabriel, who is too tired right now to do anything but lean into him. “Anyone else gay?”  
“Balthazar has recently introduced me to his boyfriend. He’s not gay, but rather—what was the term he used—pansexual?” Michael says.  
“Oh, shit!” Gabriel laughs.  
“His boyfriend was, apparently, born a woman,” Michael says.  
“I find myself surprised that you’re using the appropriately-gendered terms. Most I’ve met who disapprove of homosexuality also use the terms relating to the gender assigned at birth, rather than to the expressed gender,” Castiel says.  
“I’m learning. I’m taking it a day at a time, but I have realized that—in trying to make Dad happy—I’ve strayed very far from what _would_ make him happy,” Michael says, and turns to Gabriel. “Castiel won’t forgive me if you don’t. Home isn’t the place you left anymore; you won’t be the person you left if you come back. Just visit us, okay? Luke is in the hospital, and it would mean the world to him if you came around.”  
“No, it wouldn’t.”  
“Don’t devalue yourself. You were always Lucifer’s favorite little brother,” Michael says. “Please don’t focus on all the bad times. Remember the good times, too. Remember when we went to the park and Lucifer _desperately_ tried to get you to understand the mechanics and purpose of catch. Remember when you did well in school and I took you out for ice cream. Remember when you tried to teach Lucifer to cook and the neighbors saw the smoke pouring out of the house and called the fire department. It wasn’t all bad, and you’re not doing yourself justice to make this decision without considering that.”  
“I have your number, Michael.”  
Michael nods. “I’ll leave my cell number. I’ll be in town for a few more days.”  
“You were optimistic,” Gabriel says.  
“The opposite, actually,” Michael says. “Thank you for considering.”

When the door closes behind Michael, Gabriel turns around and wraps his arms around Sam. He looks so small and fragile that Sam takes his hand and leads him to the stairs. Gabriel shakes his head. “We’re all hungover and we need some breakfast.”  
“Gabriel—”  
“I need to cook, Sam. Stay with me?”  
Sam nods. “Of course.”  
“You can go back upstairs,” Gabriel says to Dean and Cas, “I’ll call when breakfast is ready.”  
Castiel starts to refuse, but Dean pulls him over to the stairs, and Castiel gets the hint.

“You okay?” Sam says.  
“I’ll be fine, princess,” Gabriel says, and he tries to smile, but it looks weak. He can tell by the way Sam looks at him that Sam doesn’t buy it. “Lots of old wounds, but they were never gonna heal any other way.” Sam kisses him. Gabriel lets him.

Sam pulls away. “If you let me keep going, _I_ won’t let _you_ cook breakfast.”  
Gabriel sighs, contented. “Go get a shower. The downstairs bath should have everything you need.” Sam kisses him once more and leaves.


End file.
